


You've Got the Best of Me

by daydreamer93



Series: The F*ckBoy Chronicles | Day6 [2]
Category: Day6 (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Best Friends, Bets & Wagers, Don't Judge Me, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hook-Up, Seven Guys and one girl, Who will she choose in the end, five weeks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamer93/pseuds/daydreamer93
Summary: "I can't help but feel like this could be something. That, if I don't take this chance with you, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."What happens when a player makes a bet on his best friend?A story about friendship, love, and the line in-between.When your three year relationship with Kim Nam Joon ends, you turn to Kang Younghyun, your best friend and the biggest playboy on campus, to help you win him back. Convinced that relationships are a waste of time, Younghyun agrees to help. There's only one catch. He wants to make a bet, challenging you to swap lifestyles for 5 weeks.5 weeks.7 guys.1 experiment.May the best player win.





	1. Soju & Sugarcane

You never thought kissing a stranger would feel so good. The lights in the club illuminate your booth in rainbow light, refracting off the pale green glass of your soju bottle. The bass from the music reverberates through your body as your lips move over Yoongi's in perfect rhythm.

You weren't looking for anyone in particular when you walked down the steps to enter Moonrise, the hottest night club in Gangnam. In fact, you would have bet 100,000 won you'd meet anyone other than your best friend's antisocial flatmate, Min Yoongi. 

"Well." You grimace to yourself. Perhaps you'd better leave the bets to someone else. After all, betting is exactly what got you into this mess in the first place. Glancing over at him from across the room you feel your nerves begin to get the better of you. This is the last place you want to be.

Your mind rushes back to the last time you were here. Nam Joon's familiar laugh as he spun you around, one hand holding your beer as a dimpled smile lit up his face. It hadn't mattered then what anyone else thought. All of your self-consciousness had disappeared under the comfortable gaze of your boyfriend of three years. A boyfriend who was supposed to become your fiancé in exactly...

You glance at the clock above the bar. It's three minutes to midnight. You exhale slowly and take a deep breath. Three minutes until the day he was going to propose. Three minutes until the day you'll do anything to forget.

Setting your gaze on Yoongi, you lift your chin, square your shoulders, and begin to walk towards him, trying to look more confident than you feel. You reach out, grabbing a half-empty bottle from the nearest table, and down it in a single shot. You pause to gauge the reaction of the guys sitting on the other side. Judging by the way they're staring hungrily at the long, lean legs exposed by your tight, black miniskirt, you know they won't mind.

Yoongi doesn't even glance up as you stand there awkwardly, arms crossed, in front of his booth. He picks up a glass of soju languidly and tips it back until its contents are gone. Setting it down on the table, he leans back slowly, tilting his head slightly so that his gaze meets yours. 

"Need something?" he asks roughly, fixing you with an impatient glare. 

You swallow and muster your courage to reply. 

"Yeah, actually, I could use a seat. Is someone sitting there?" you half-shout above the music, glancing meaningfully at the empty space beside him. 

Yoongi places his tongue in his cheek and raises his eyebrows, fixing you with an incredulous stare. You have no idea why you ever thought this was a good idea. He's known for being a stone-cold stoic that never caves for anyone. This definitely isn't going to work.

Relaxing as you let your arms drop to your sides, you turn slowly, preparing to leave. The sound of his derisive snort makes you whirl back around sharply. Yoongi is gesturing irritably at the vacant seat, his jaw set, arm extended to an open palm. Assuming that's all the invitation you're going to get you quickly slip into the booth, trying to decide how close you can get. Judging by the sardonic arch of his eyebrow, not close enough.

You sit there in silence, unsure of your next move. You have no idea what to say to him, and it's clear he isn't up for small talk. In desperation, you grab the bottle of soju and fill an empty shot glass. Downing it swiftly, you feel the cool burn of the liquor at the back of your throat. You pause a moment to gauge whether it's had any effect on you. Not enough. You quickly chase it with a second glass, followed by a third. Hands shaking, you begin to fill a fourth when you feel Yoongi's firm grasp encircling your wrist. Easing the bottle out of your hand, he picks it up and downs the rest of the clear liquid, fixing you with that same cold stare. 

"Unless you're planning to pay for this, you better slow down," he says. His voice is gentler than you were expecting although his expression is still unwelcoming.

Fighting the growing panic under his gaze, you reach out and grab a new bottle, attempting to shake his hand off. 

"I'll pay," you answer obstinately, "just let me drink." 

You raise the bottle to your lips and take a long sip, topping it off with a satisfied smirk. As you lift the bottle again, Yoongi glares at you a few more seconds, then curses under his breath. Grabbing your wrist more forcefully this time, he pulls you away from the table. Maybe it's the effect of the liquor, or maybe it's the force of his grip, but somehow you find yourself face to face with Min Yoongi, your lips a breath away from his. You expect him to lean back immediately, but instead he sits still, glaring at you angrily, apparently waiting for you to make the first move.

It only takes a heartbeat to make up your mind. You can see his dark lashes, contrasting starkly with his pale, smooth skin. His hair is falling in his eyes and you can smell the soju on his lips, sweet like sugarcane. For one instant everything goes still. Then you feel your arms wrapping around his neck, your palm pressing his head forward until his mouth meets yours. And that's how you find yourself kissing Min Yoongi.

You were looking for a way to shut off your brain, to forget what you tried so hard not to remember. Yoongi's lips provide the perfect escape. You half expected him to push you away, feeling him tense at the first impact, but instead he seems to fall into it naturally, his lips easily matching your pace. His kisses aren't rushed or frantic, like you had expected. Instead his lips graze yours in a slow, almost lazy manner, drawing out each touch. Each caress becoming just a little deeper, building a little more intensity with every passing minute. You feel your breath catch and your heart pound in your throat as Yoongi's tongue traces the inside of your lips. You can taste the bitter and sweet alcohol in his mouth. Pulling back, you ghost your lips along his jaw, tracing his neck down to his collar. Pushing his t-shirt aside you begin to gently kiss his collarbone. Your hands travel down his chest, sliding over his abs, until they come to rest on the waistband of his jeans. Hooking each index finger through a belt loop, you slowly tug his hips closer to yours, pressing yourself into him more deeply. 

"Want to get out of here?" you whisper in his ear.

Your words catch his attention. Yoongi sits back sharply, pushing you away. He shakes his head groggily, as if he's just woken up, and lets out a deep breath. 

"Shit. I think you're too drunk for this," he says stoically, disentangling himself from you. Feeling the rush of cold air between the two of you, you place a hand on his arm to stop him. 

"I'm not drunk," you argue resolutely. "This is what I came for," fixing him with an intense stare. 

Yoongi searches your face for a moment, before grabbing your hand and slowly sliding it off his arm. 

"It's one thing to hit on a girl who's sober, but I don't hook up with girls who are drunk. Especially when they're friends with my flatmate." He turns his face away from you and takes a long glance around the club. The crowd has grown since you joined him, and you can tell by the tipsy sway of guys on the dance floor, the unsteady walk of girl's in heels that are too high: you've been here too long.

You reach out and catch Yoongi's cheek in your hand, using your palm to draw his gaze towards you. 

"I'm not drunk," you repeat, stubbornly. 

Feeling how steady you are, the light-headed and dizzy sensation fading, you realize it's true. Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh and runs a hand through his messy hair. 

"I already gave you my answer. I'm not going to repeat myself," he snaps. 

Realizing you're fighting a losing battle, you sigh and take a deep breath. Younghyun always said once Yoongi made up his mind there was no way to change it. Fixing him with your most flirtatious smile, you reach down and grab your purse. 

"Alright," you say in a tone you hope comes off as nonchalant. "Walk me home?"


	2. Leather & Suede

"At least I'm not wearing heels," you think to yourself, grimacing. 

You pause to rub the back of your ankle, feeling a large blister beginning to form. You can only imagine how much worse the damage would be if you hadn't switched your stilettos for soft, suede flats on your way out the door that evening. You bite your lip and hurry to catch up to Yoongi, striding ahead with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Once you followed him outside he'd flagged down a cab for you, tossing you a bill as he strode away. Slamming the door of the cab shut, you sheepishly waved the annoyed driver on. You sprinted in the direction you had last seen him, afraid of losing him in the crowd. This was too good of a chance. There was no way you were going to give up that easily.

You see Yoongi walking in the familiar direction of Younghyun's apartment. It makes sense. They were flatmates, after all. Quickening your pace to reach him, you grab his elbow from behind, pressing the bill he left firmly into his palm. Looking pissed, Yoongi shakes your hand off and continues walking. 

"Come on, I'm headed in the same direction as you. Just walk with me until we get close," you plead. Yoongi doesn't say anything, continuing to walk. He hasn't agreed, but he hasn't tried to stop you either. You decide that's all the encouragement you need.

It isn't easy keeping up with Yoongi. He likes to move at a quick pace, and it's clear he isn't going to wait for you. Watching his boots tap rhythmically on the faded concrete, you remember a pair of similar boots, treading a similar path. 

/-/

The wealthy son of a politician, there was nothing Kim Nam Joon couldn't buy for himself. Coming from a more modest background, it was a bit of a relief that your boyfriend didn't expect you to spend money you didn't have. In fact, you often felt guilty about how easily he reached into his wallet and extracted his credit card, ready to spend more generously than you could ever hope to return. That's why, when he'd mentioned the boots in Supreme's latest collection, you knew they would make the perfect gift.

Living on the tight budget of a college student, it took you 3 months, and more skipped meals than you cared to remember, to save up 300,000 won. Setting your alarm for 4 am, you threw a jacket on over your old sweats and groggily took your place in the line that had formed outside the front door. Everyone knew Supreme's products only dropped 3-4 times a year, and if you didn't get them early you wouldn't be getting any at all.

You could barely contain your excitement as you walked Nam Joon into your apartment, your hands covering his eyes. Sitting him down on the couch, you'd scolded him lightheartedly for attempting to peek. You laughed at the look of surprise on his face, mingled with concern, as his eyes landed on the large, brightly wrapped box sitting before him on your coffee table. Tearing the paper off gingerly, his eyes lit up and his signature smile spread across his face as he read the logo. 

"How did you get these!" he exclaimed, holding up a boot and admiring the smooth, urban leather. "They sold out the same day they dropped." 

You can't keep from smiling as he leans in and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"You're amazing, you know that," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest. 

After enjoying his embrace for a few seconds, you reach up and catch his face in your hands. Tracing his dimples with your thumbs, you smile up at him. 

"Happy Birthday," you whisper before leaning into his kiss.

/-/

"Hey!" 

You snap out of your reverie and back into harsh reality at the impatient sound in Yoongi's tone. Mind reeling, you desperately try to recall any of his words that your subconscious might have picked up. You've got nothing. Seeing your blank expression, Yoongi sighs again. 

"I said, we're almost to my apartment and you still haven't told me where you live." 

Yoongi's glare is back, in full force. Seeing that you're not going to reply, he continues, the irritation evident in his voice. 

"I'm not going to walk around here all night with you. Where do you live?" he demands. 

You can feel your cheeks beginning to grow hot as you consider your options. The night air has cleared any lingering effects of the alcohol from your brain, and the sudden memories of Nam Joon have left you feeling raw and exposed. You don't even know why you're doing this anymore. It suddenly dawns on you that going home with him is the most ridiculous plan you've ever had.

Glancing at Yoongi, you realize he's stopped and has turned to face you. It's clear he's not going to take another step until you give him some answers. Embarrassment flooding you, you clear your throat and gather your courage to face the inevitable storm that is about to hit. 

"I actually live near Anam-dong," you mumble, terrified to gauge his reaction. 

"What?" Yoongi yells. "That's miles in the opposite direction." 

Balling his hands into fists, he lets out an angry growl, turns sharply, and resumes his original course, walking at an even faster pace. Sprinting to keep up with him, you struggle to catch your breath. 

"Just let me sleep on your couch," you plead. "I won't bother you!" 

Yoongi snorts and curtly shakes his head. You pull on his arm, forcing him to turn towards you. Looking into his eyes you try to communicate your desperation. Maybe you hadn't thought this through, but it was too late now. Miles away from home, all of the buses had stopped running and you were too far out to get another cab. The memories of Nam Joon flash through your brain, and all at once you're hit once again by what day it is. You wish you could just collapse on the ground and let the cold and darkness wash everything out of your mind.

For one minute Yoongi gives you a hard glance. Shivering with the cold, you desperately try to think of any friend with a car who could give you a ride, but his expression softens, unexpectedly. 

"Fine," he breathes. "Just the couch. One night. Don't expect me to entertain you. Once we reach my apartment I'm going to sleep." 

Doing your best to look penitent, you nod your head, lower your eyes, and meekly trudge behind him.

* * *

Yoongi reaches across the door frame and flips the light switch. A small lamp illuminates the living room in an otherwise dark apartment. Looking around, you notice how unfamiliar it looks. Even though you talk to Younghyun on a daily basis, it's been awhile since you've been to his place. You realize the last time you were here was months ago, at a spur-of-the-moment New Year's Eve Party, classic Younghyun style. Glancing up the stairs, you don't see any lights coming from the other guys' rooms. Probably all out partying. It looks like you two are the only ones here. Sliding off his jacket and placing it on the back of the couch, Yoongi heads for the stairs. He pauses at the bottom. 

"Bathroom's that way. Eat anything marked KYH. Don't touch any of Jin's stuff or he'll flip out. If you need something text Younghyun. Don't wake me up." He glances around the room, then heads up the stairs. 

"I'm out," he says, waving a hand at you over his shoulder.

For one minute you sit on the couch, leaning forward, elbows resting on your knees, and look around. It's your typical bachelor's apartment, just a little more decorated and a little more clean than you would expect. 

"Jin's touch," you think. 

Sitting up you rub your eyes and yawn loudly. You should try to sleep. You take off your jacket and drape it over your shoulders and torso, trying to find a throw pillow that's a little less stiff than the others. After laying there restlessly for what seems like an eternity (but the microwave clock informs you has been exactly two minutes) you jump hearing footsteps treading back down the stairs.

Sitting up you glance at Yoongi. His face looks tense and he's shifting his weight uncomfortably. 

"What's up?" you ask, unsure of how to interpret his expression. 

"Looks like I can't use my room right now," he says awkwardly. You blink at him a few times. 

"What do you mean? Why not?" you reply, confused. Yoongi coughs and then gets a condescending look on his face, as though he's explaining something obvious to a preschooler. 

"It's occupied at the moment," he says, raising his eyebrows at you meaningfully. You can't control the surprise that flits across your features. 

"Really?" you say incredulously. "You guys even do that in each other's beds?" Yoongi just shrugs at you silently. 

"Who is it?" you ask, sure you already know the answer. 

"Who do you think?" Yoongi smirks, raising an eyebrow at you sarcastically. You scoff. 

Of course. Kang Younghyun. 

In that case you know you're both in for a long night. Standing up you walk to the fridge and pull it open, grabbing a beer off of the first shelf. Reaching in, you grab a second one and give Yoongi a quizzical look. 

"Want one of these?" you ask. He shrugs his consent and nods his head. 

"They're Younghyun's," he says with a satisfied smile.

Sitting on the soft leather couch, sipping your bottle, it occurs to you that you and Yoongi have found yourselves in an uncomfortable situation. Not wanting to make it any more tense, you try to think up a solution. 

"You know, you can just sleep in Younghyun's bed. I'm planning on taking the couch," you say, in the most casual manner possible. You're surprised to hear Yoongi snort. 

"Yeah right. And if he brings his girl back in there are you planning to join them?" You can feel your cheeks begin to warm up at the thought. 

"N-No, I thought he was staying in your room," you stammer. Yoongi chuckles darkly and fixes you with the same patient look from before. 

"Let's just say, on nights like these Younghyun is so wasted he can't even tell his ass from his armpit. I wouldn't be caught dead lying on those sheets. And I don't think it's a good idea for you to sleep in his bed anyway. Not unless you're planning on taking that threesome seriously." 

You just laugh and wave his words away dismissively. 

"It's not like that between us," you say. "Younghyun and I have been friends since before we could crawl. We grew up together. He's practically a brother to me. That's one thing I don't have to worry about." 

Yoongi fixes you with an incredulous look and glances at your outfit. The way his eyes slide over the considerable amount of skin exposed by your miniskirt and crop top, you suddenly wish you were wearing your jacket again. He shrugs dismissively, but you could swear you hear him mutter under his breath, "He's still a man." Several bottles of beer later and you find yourself back in your original position, lying on the couch. You came up with a compromise, you sleep on the loveseat, Yoongi takes the floor. 

"You better not snore," he warns you, before rolling over and closing his eyes.

You're not sure when exactly you fell asleep, but you wake abruptly to find Yoongi leaning over you. He has your jacket in his hands, and he's attempting to place it over your shoulders again, blanket style. 

"You dropped this on my head," he complains, still gripping the material, body angled over you. "I couldn't sleep because you wouldn't stop moving around." 

Standing up, he removes his leather jacket and holds it out to you. He must have put it on again before going to sleep, you think hazily. Staring at him blankly, you're not sure what he expects you to do. Those last few bottles of alcohol seem to have caught up with you and your mind is feeling foggy. Yoongi takes a step towards you unsteadily. You realize part of the reason you're struggling to understand him is because he's been slurring his words. Looks like he isn't fairing much better.

Yoongi leans down, reaching to place his jacket on top of your own, but his depth perception is off. His hands come down hard, and his nose grazes yours, his chest pressing you into the couch. You know you should push him away, but you can smell the alcohol on his lips again, still bitter and sweet. You remember the way it felt to kiss him at the club, the way it numbed your brain deliciously. You don't want to think about Nam Joon again, don't want to think about Younghyun upstairs, teasing you when he finds out you lost your nerve. Before you have a chance to back out, you're wrapping yourself around Yoongi for the second time tonight, pressing your lips against his.

Yoongi's kisses are less serene this time. There's no languid draw; no soft, relaxed flow. These kisses are full of urgency, quick and salty and rough. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites it gently, then moves down your neck, alternating between caressing and biting, running his warm tongue across your skin. Your breath is coming faster now, and you sigh as your hands run up his back, feeling the smooth, taunt muscles beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. Yoongi sits up and grabs the hem of his t-shirt. Lifting it over his head in one smooth motion, he deposits it on the floor, barely breaking his rhythm. As his lips move lower you run your hands over his bare abs, and hear him make a satisfied sound in the back of his throat. You can't keep your mind from picturing Nam Joon and the ring he kept hidden in his desk drawer. You know you might regret this tomorrow.


	3. Japchae & Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Jang rae sik jang is the Romanization of a Korean word referring to a funeral home (or building that hosts multiple funeral rooms).
> 
> This story is purely fictional. The actions and portrayals of its characters bear no resemblance to their real-life counter parts.

You startle awake at the sound of your cellphone ringing. Stretching your hand out, you fumble in the dark to find it. Pressing the phone to your ear, you roll over to glance at your alarm clock.

4 am.

"Younghyun" you groan. "I love you, but did you have to wake me up at 4 in the morning? I'm going to see you at school in three hours."

You pause, grumpily considering all of the ways you're going to scold him later. You expect to hear his playful banter, but instead you're met with silence. Checking to see if he's still on the line, you hear a large sniff, followed by shaky breathing.

You sit up quickly, all of your annoyance vanishing.

"Younghyun? What is it? What's wrong?" you say, fear creeping into your heart.

His voice sounds smaller and more fragile than you've ever heard it before.

"It's my mom."

/-/

You place an envelope of money into the hands of the man standing by the door. He must be one of Younghyun's relatives, but you've never seen him before. After exchanging bows politely, you walk further into the room, coming to stand before the memorial. A picture of Younghyun's mother smiles down at you, surrounded by white flowers. You can see Younghyun in her beautiful eyes, dark hair and perfect lips curved into a captivating smile. Younghyun's father is kneeling at the egde of a mat, the customary arm-band decorating a perfectly tailored black suit. He greets you formally, composed and dignified. You want to ask him where you can find Younghyun, but you find his silent, stern face too intimidating. Younghyun's father has always been that way. Calm, polite, and cold.

Once you've paid your respects, you walk through a small corridor leading to a large dining room. Scanning the room for Younghyun's familiar figure, you look up to see his aunt walking towards you. She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, flashing you a genuine smile as she greets you. Residing in a small town outside of Busan, you've only seen her a couple of times; but, out of all of Younghyun's relatives, she's always been one of your favorites.

After giving your condolences, you find yourself walking down the halls of the Jang rae sik jang. Worried that he hadn't returned from an errand to the supply closet, Younghyun's aunt sends you to check on him. Following her instructions, you find the closet shut, no light spilling from the crack under the door. Knocking tentatively, you pause to listen.

Nothing.

Frowning in confusion, you gently ease the door open. The closet is dark, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The light in the hallway illuminates a pair of discarded dress pants lying on top of a blazer bearing a funeral cuff. You forget to breathe, standing in the doorway, as you gaze at Kang Younghyun lying on top of one of the girls from your ninth grade class, his lips plastered to hers. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, skirt pulled up around her ribcage. For one minute you simply stand there, frozen. Then you turn on your heel and walk away, slamming the door shut behind you.

The following Monday you wake up early and walk to school alone. You try not to think about Younghyun and all of the mornings you've spent in the past, walking to school together. How many times you'd seen him walking with his nose stuck in a comic or sneakily trying to steal a bite of your breakfast when you're distracted.

You sit at a desk in your ninth grade classroom, reviewing your notes as Younghyun slides into the seat across from you. He reaches out and pokes you with his pencil, that familiar mischievous smile on his face, but you continue reading your notes, ignoring him. With a grin, Younghyun leans over and begins scribbling on your notes with his pencil. You jerk your notebook away and stand up quickly. Grabbing your backpack, you move to another seat, out of his reach. Younghyun stands to follow you just as the teacher arrives. Sitting down quickly, he glances at you, then pulls out his books silently.

/-/

You arrive at the cafeteria late, having ducked into the girl's restroom in order to avoid Younghyun. As you emerge with your tray, he waves at you from across the cafeteria, motioning towards the table where he sits, surrounded by your classmates. You walk to a table on the other side of the cafeteria, sitting with some girls from your class.

Leaving lunch late, you arrive at class just as the bell is ringing. The only empty desk is directly in front of Younghyun. You slide into your chair timidly as the teacher scolds you before exiting. It's study period. Out of the corner of your eye you see Younghyun looking at you solemnly. As you turn around to place your backpack on the floor, your eyes meet his. His face holds a question, but you don't answer it. As you turn back around, he turns his face towards the window and places his head on his desk. He shuts his eyes, silently listening to the music playing in his earbuds.

The next day you come to class early. For the second time you walk to school alone. When you enter the classroom you sit in your customary spot and begin studying your notes as usual. Younghyun arrives shortly after you, but he doesn't greet you like he used to. Dropping his backpack on the ground, he slides into a desk on the other side of the room. He doesn't even glance in your direction.

That afternoon, you walk into the cafeteria carrying the lunch your mother packed that morning. Tuesdays are Younghyun's favorite because she always sends japchae. Knowing it's his favorite, she makes sure to pack enough for the two of you to share. Walking towards your usual table, you see Younghyun sitting with his arm draped around a pretty girl with long, black hair. The same girl you saw at the funeral. Catching your gaze, she smirks tauntingly, leaning her head into his shoulder and grabbing his hand.

Although you aren't enemies, the two of you have never been especially friendly. Younghyun once made you a target board with her face on it after a particularly bad day in gym class. Never having been a great athlete, basketball was definitely not your sport. After making several mistakes that ultimately led to your team losing the game, she'd yelled at you until you sat crying in the locker room. Younghyun let you rip up all of his old chemistry notes and throw them at the picture of her face he drew. You laughed as he imitated her, pretending to flip his hair and pulling exaggerated faces until you both were rolling with laughter.

Now as you stand before Younghyun, gripping your lunchbox, you feel unsure of what to do. Younghyun gives you a cold look and then leans over and kisses her on the cheek. The cafeteria erupts in whoops and cheers, as she pulls away giggling. On your way out of the door, you throw your lunch in the trash.

* * *

Earbuds blaring TOP & G-Dragon's "High, High," you flip through the pages of your textbook with one hand, grasping your kimbap with the other. Taking a large bite, you work on memorizing the molecular structure of chemicals for an upcoming exam. For the past three days you'd been eating your lunch alone outside. Sitting up straight, you close your eyes and tilt your chin towards the sky, easing the stiffness in your neck. Your eyes snap open, and you jump, as you feel hands circling your waist. Ripping your headphones out, you whirl around to see Younghyun sitting behind you, tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

For one moment your eyes meet, then lightly, almost tentatively, you place a hand on his shoulder.

"Younghyun-ah?" you ask softly.

His breath is ragged, and you can see his chest heaving and his face straining as he attempts to hold back a sob. In the 15 years you've known him, you've only seen him cry twice. The first time was in kindergarten, after he lost his dog. Worried that she wouldn't be able to find food or a place to sleep, you'd sat by him until his parents brought her home later that night. The second time was in grade 6. He broke his arm attempting to climb to the fifth floor of your apartment building, intent on reaching your window in order to pull off an elaborate prank. You held his hand in the emergency room and promised not to tell anyone.

Since his phone call that night, you haven't seen Younghyun cry, not even at the funeral. A lump forms in your throat, and your heart squeezes painfully as you watch him struggling not to drown in his emotions. Reaching forward, you pull his head onto your shoulder, returning his embrace. He sighs, and then you feel the damp moisture of hot tears soaking into the jacket of your uniform.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I just wanted to forget. I just needed not to miss her."

"I know," you whisper back, softly.

You sit there for a long time listening to his sobs, one hand rubbing his back, the other gently stroking his hair, as you watch your best friend finally face his grief.

* * *

You wake up to the bright glare of sunlight on your face. Opening your eyes tentatively, you feel the signature pain of a hangover throbbing in your temple. As you struggle to wake up, you suddenly become aware of the fact that your head is snuggled into a warm, broad chest, your hands gripping a soft, white t-shirt. You can smell the clean, masculine scent of cologne mixed with fabric softener. Glancing down at yourself, you realize you are lying in what you assume to be Yoongi's bed, wearing nothing but a strapless bra and a pair of lacy black underwear.

Your thoughts are hazy as you frantically try to recall what happened the previous night. You remember kissing Yoongi on the couch, his t-shirt slipping to the floor, and the feel of his hands tangled in your hair. His mouth against yours as you walked backwards up the stairs. The surprisingly pleasant sound of his laughter as you both tripped onto the hallway floor. Yoongi kissing your fingertips, your legs tangled in the sheets of his bed.

His bed.

Your eyes fly open and you sit up, abruptly pushing yourself away from the man you've been cuddling in your sleep. Glancing over, you're greeted by the familiar, mischievous grin of Kang Younghyun. For one moment you stare at him incredulously, then a flood of questions come tumbling out.

"What are you doing here? Where's Yoongi? Why am I dressed like this? Why are you dressed like that?" you demand frantically, finally noticing his underwear.

Younghyun just chuckles and stretches, sitting up lazily. "This just so happens to be my apartment, my bedroom, and my bed," he says with a grin. "I was just trying to get some sleep, when I found you. So, I think the real question is, why are you here?" 

You search the room frantically, face reddening as you realize his words are true. You're sitting in the middle of Younghyun's room.

"Last time I saw Yoongi, he was hugging the toilet, probably regurgitating all of that alcohol from last night. How much did you guys drink? He usually can hold his liquor pretty well."

He raises his eyebrows at you, but, seeing your scowl, he laughs and continues. 

"As for what you're wearing, I take no responsibility for your choice in underwear. As for what I'm wearing..." he pauses, and another mischievous smile lights up his face. "I usually sleep naked, but out of consideration I thought I'd throw these on. I can always take them off if it bothers you," he teases, feigning as if he's going to remove his boxers.

You snort, then lean over and punch him in the arm, a little harder than usual, rolling your eyes. "Pabo," you mutter under your breath.

Sitting back and looking around the room once again, it finally dawns on you why the setting seems so out of place. "Wait a minute, why are you here?" you say. Younghyun sighs and rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

"I just explained-"

"No," you interrupt him, impatiently. "I mean why aren't you in Yoongi's room? Where's your date?"

"Oh, that?" Younghyun shrugs dismissively and leans back onto his pillow. "She had to leave early. Said something about breakfast with her fiancé's mother."

Fiancé. 

You feel your stomach drop at his words. Noting the change in your expression, he places a hand on your arm.

"It's not like that," he says quietly. "It's an arranged marriage that neither of them wants. He has a serious girlfriend, and they agreed he could keep dating. He's okay with her hooking up."

You swallow and nod your head, shaking his arm off, gently. Standing up you search around the room for your clothes. You pull on the crop top from last night, but your skirt presents a new problem. Lifting it off the floor you can see it's completely torn up one side. Younghyun snorts.

"How eager were you?" he teases.

You groan.

"It's not funny," you sigh. "How am I supposed to go home like this?"

Younghyun jumps off the bed and walks to his closet. Digging through some hangers, he emerges with a pair of his old sweats.

"They'll be way too big for you, but these should work," he says, measuring the pants against you.

You sigh, but smile gratefully as you reach out to take them.

Younghyun makes you breakfast after that. You sit at the counter sipping your juice when Yoongi groggily walks by. His hair is a mess and his pale face is marked with dark circles under his eyes. He looks terrible. For one moment he glances at you silently, then walks to the fridge and retrieves a bottle of water.

"Morning," he croaks, before tipping the bottle back and chugging its contents.

Younghyun is watching the two of you, his face uncustomarily serious. You realize Yoongi is waiting for you to give him the okay. To let him know that you aren't expecting anything after last night. You place your cup on the counter and give him a quick smile.

"Morning," you say in the most casual voice you can manage.

Turning towards Younghyun, you quickly start a conversation, trying to act as normal as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi relax. He grabs another bottle of water and climbs the stairs towards his room.

Younghyun smiles as you help him do the dishes, but his face still holds a trace of that tense worry from before. Reaching past him to place a glass in the cabinet, you nudge him with your elbow.

"I'm fine, Younghyun," you say. "Stop worrying." His eyes search yours.

"Are you sure? I mean, I know that you've never-that this was your first-" you put up a hand, signaling him to stop.

"I'm really ok. Let's not talk about it anymore."

Seeing that you're serious, Younghyun seems to relax, nodding his head. You finish drying the dishes and reach for your purse on the counter. He hooks an arm around your waist and places a quick kiss on top of your head.

Pulling back slightly, he murmurs into your hair, "Let's get you home."


End file.
